


Thinking Outside the Box

by leaper182



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, M/M, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 09:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10568772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leaper182/pseuds/leaper182
Summary: Harvey would think Jim having no filter would be hilarious if it weren't so damn sad.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gordlock Fills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9382553) by [falsteloj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj). 



> Okay, so I got this idea yesterday, and it's crack, but fuck it.
> 
> Completely unbeta'd other than throwing it at people and seeing if they're entertained by it.
> 
> I don't know if this would be a squick or a trigger warning, but Jim gets drugged without his consent?

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Harvey grunted. “You sure this is the address?”

Jim pulled out the slip of paper from his jacket pocket, and then nodded. “This is it.”

“Not exactly the kind of place for a meet. How old is this thing, anyway?”

The warehouse, in a predictably shitty part of town, looked like it was on its last legs. The broken windows were maybe ten or twenty feet high. The only suspicious thing was that the doors looked new.

Jim and Harvey traded a look before they kicked the door in.

"GCPD!" Harvey shouted, bringing up his revolver.

Jim raised his Glock, and that's when he got hit in the face with some kind of blue powder that puffed into the air.

"Harvey!" he gasped, doubling over as he coughed loudly.

Harvey used one hand to yank his hat off and cover his nose and mouth with it, just before the room exploded into a hail of gunfire.

"Jim!" he shouted, using his bulk to slam into Jim's side.

The momentum sent the two of them sprawling to the smooth, concrete floor. They were able to crawl their way to safety, taking cover behind some stacks of crates to the right of the doors. Harvey righted himself quickly, bringing his revolver up as he inched closer to the edge of the crates. He peeked quickly around the edge, and frowned when he didn't see any mooks with guns take any potshots at them.

"What the--" Harvey muttered before another barrage opened up, bullets whizzing and pinging off the wall nearest their position as well as the stack of crates they were hiding behind. "Whoa!"

Jim, who'd managed to get his breathing under control, but who still looked too queasy for Harvey's comfort, frowned at him, his eyes wild.  _ What's going on? _

Harvey held up a finger for silence, and then shouted again. More bullets fired. Harvey could see shreds of wood near where he’d planted his right hand on the floor to keep himself upright.  _ Damn, _ he thought.  _ These things are rigged for sound. _

He looked at Jim again, and Jim made a quick motion with one hand.

Harvey scowled at him and shook his head.  _ What the hell does  _ **_that_ ** _ mean? _

Jim's shoulders dropped in a quiet sigh. He dug his notebook out of his jacket pocket, clicked his pen, and wrote quickly. ACTIVATED BY SOUND?

Harvey nodded quickly, and motioned impatiently for the pen. WE CAN TRY FOR THE DOOR.

Jim nodded back, but before he could lever himself to his feet, he blinked a few times, and started to look panicked.

WHAT? Harvey scrawled quickly. When Jim didn't answer right away, he hurriedly underlined the word repeatedly.

Jim shook his head frantically, squeezing his eyes shut. And then his mouth opened.

"I can't stop it."

There was another hail of gunfire.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T Harvey managed to write before Jim answered.

"I mean, I can't stop talking." Sweat was popping out on his forehead, and he looked like he was straining to keep quiet. "That cloud--"

Harvey rolled his eyes in silent fury. Well,  _ that _ was just fucking perfect. Their one escape route, and whatever was in that cloud was going to get them shot. Ordinarily, he wouldn't mind Jim talking his ear off, but this wasn't the time to entertain really bad phone sex fantasies about his very straight partner.

Jim gritted his teeth, trying to breathe through his mouth, but only managing to make himself accidentally sound like a phone sex operator. "Harvey-- if you've-- got any-- ideas-- now's the time."

Harvey frowned. Every time that Jim had spoken, there had been a hail of gunfire, but if those were machines instead of people...

"Actually, I do," Harvey said out loud. "Let's see if we can make those things run out of bullets."

Feeling kind of stupid, but not really surprised at how this had become something  _ normal _ in his life, Harvey plugged his ears and started singing a drinking song off the top of his head as loudly as he could manage.

It was around the third verse when he realized that the bullets hadn't paused.

"How many rounds do those things have?!" Harvey demanded.

Jim shook his head. "Doesn't look we're going to be able to run down the bullets anytime soon. We need another plan."

"I know that, genius!" Harvey snapped in frustration before he sighed heavily. "Sorry."

"What?"

_ Oh, the bullets. _ Harvey grunted before raising his voice, which pissed off the death machines again. "I said sorry!"

Jim shook his head. "It's fine, Harvey, really." He glanced over his shoulder at the tower of crates they were leaning against. "Think, Gordon, think. We can't make noise, we can't make the machines waste bullets, we can't call for backup. What can we do? What can we do?" He closed his eyes again, wincing as he kept talking nonstop. "There's gotta be a way to shut me up, I'm the problem, I'm always the problem, even in Afghanistan, I was always the problem. No, don't think like that. I've gotta be the solution now. We can get out of this. I can get us out of this."

Harvey turned from the edge of the crates back to Jim, whose eyes were still closed. He wasn't even sure if Jim was even  _ aware _ he was talking out loud.

"Harvey needs me to get us out of this. We need to figure out who sent us here. We need to get  _ out _ of here, but first, we have to figure a way out."

Harvey stared at him for a long minute before reaching out a hand and tapping firmly on Jim's lips.  _ You're. Talking. _

"What? Harvey needs me to keep my eye on the ball here. Wow, I love his eyes. And I need to stop thinking about his eyes because we need to get out of here--" He stopped abruptly when he saw Harvey's eyes widen. "I said that out loud, didn't I? Shit shit shit. Think of something else. Think of something else. The bullets almost sound like rain on a roof, and isn't that a weird thought? How come we haven't heard these things reload? If they're anything like the AKs we had in the army, they should've need reloading by now. I need to check to see what kind of firepower we're dealing with--"

Harvey grabbed his arm and shook his head firmly.  _ Oh, _ **_hell_ ** _ no, you're not getting your head blown off, Jim. _

"Just a quick peek. Man, I wish I could kiss him to distract-- no. No. No. New line of thought. The guns. Focus on the guns. Bang bang bang,  _ wow, _ I'm getting sick of that noise." Jim yanked his sleeve free of Harvey's grip and peeked around the other side of the stacks of crates. "There's more than one turret. Great." He ducked behind the crates, and after another volley, peeked around again. "They're alternating between which ones fire, and which don't." He sagged back against the crates again. "When they're not firing, they're reloading. Son of a bitch. Who would use something like this? Penguin’s all about efficiency, Riddler  _ wants _ you to know that he's about to kill you -- match made in hell, if you ask me. Barbara... no. She'd rather shoot someone than turn them into hamburger because it's fun."

Harvey blinked.  _ Fun. Of  _ **_course._ ** _ Only Valeska would be nutty enough-- _

Jim started nodding, a grin stretching across his face as he turned to Harvey. "Valeska. It's gotta be. He wouldn't think this was overkill. He might even have cameras mounted so he can watch all the fun. Hell, for all we know, the gunfire is like music to his ears or something."

Harvey rolled his eyes.  _ C'mon, Jim. We have an idea of who it is, so how do we get out of here? _

"You're right," Jim said, nodding again.

For a wild moment, Harvey thought Jim had read his mind, but Jim was just shaking his head.

"We've worked together for how long? I can tell when you're ready to get out of Dodge." Jim leaned back against the crates again. "Okay, so we need silence to just waltz out of here, and we're not going to get it because I don't have a filter between my brain and my fucking mouth. So, we've gotta find a way to shut me up. I could try gagging myself with my tie, but that wouldn't stop me from talking. It would just make me unintelligible, and we already know this thing works by volume, not by what sounds are being made. So, we've gotta find a way to--"

Harvey reached out to Jim again, but this time, he wrapped a hand around the back of Jim's neck and tugged firmly.  _ C'mere. _

"Harvey, I  _ really _ want to have a moment with you, but I need to get you out of here. I need to make sure you're okay."

Harvey rolled his eyes and tugged harder. Is this how Lee felt when Jim was pulling the macho white knight crap? He was beginning to have a lot more sympathy for her.  _ Come. Here. _

"Harvey, you don’t get it. I want to spend the whole day listening to you bitch about me being a pain in your ass. I want to freeze my ass off in your car while we eat crappy hotdogs and wait for some mook to show up at a warehouse that we're not even sure is the right one. I want to come into the station and find you sucking down coffee like your life depends on it because you’re fighting one hell of a hangover."

Jim stumbled closer, his mouth still going. "I wanna run my fingers through your hair. I wanna feel your beard against my tongue. I want you to tease me that I don't deserve your lips because you look  _ happy _ for once, and I want to pretend it's because of something I did--"

Harvey hushed him gently. If he hadn't gotten the idea before of keeping Jim's mouth occupied, he would've gotten it just looking into those baby blues that were pleading with him for help.

And because Harvey thinks of himself as one hell of a stand-up guy, he leaned in tentatively, and kissed him. It was a chaste press of lips at first, but one of them shifted, and the other moved, and then they were kissing deeply, tongues intertwining and learning each other.

For a second, Harvey had wondered why it had gotten so eerily quiet, but then he realized that the turrets weren’t firing. Even though Jim was moaning into his mouth, it must not have been loud enough to register with the death machines, and suddenly, he’s thinking  _ we’ve got a shot at this! _

Jim pulled back to breathe. “Harvey--”

Both of them winced as a fresh round of bullets slammed into the wall again.

Jim’s eyes widened when he realized Harvey’s plan. “Kissing. Harvey’s going to have his tongue down my throat and we’re going to get out of here. This is nuts. Really,  _ really  _  nice, but n--”

Harvey rolled his eyes and grabbed the lapels of Jim’s jacket in two very nervous fists and kissed him again.

He wasn’t sure how long they were going to have at this--

Jim yanked himself out of the kiss. “Wait, Harvey, hold on, we have to figure out a plan.”

“Are you kidding?” Harvey demanded. “It’s not rocket science. We kiss, I drag you outside, we slam the door shut, cover the place in enough police tape to make sure some schmuck doesn’t walk in and get turned into hamburger, job done.”

“I had to stop kissing you the last time because I ran out of  _ air _ , Harvey.”

“You haven’t perfected the art of breathing through your nose? Seriously?” Harvey stared at him incredulously. “We’re not trying to get into bed here, Jim. I need to keep your mouth occupied long enough for us to get out of here.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I’d really like it if we were kissing because we want to--”

Harvey, who was getting kind of annoyed with Jim talking, stuck his tongue into Jim’s mouth and dragged him out from behind the crates.

For a heart-pounding second, Harvey thought that the guns were going to open fire at any moment, but they remained still. It took a bit of navigating them carefully so that their shoes weren’t slapping against the floor, and at one point, Harvey had to stick out a hand and blindly feel for the door, but when he found it and got it open, he practically shoved Jim outside of the warehouse and followed after him, closing the door as quickly and quietly as possible before dragging Jim towards his car.

“That kiss really sucked,” Jim said as he was dragged towards Harvey’s car. “I really hope that Harvey gives me a second chance to show him that I actually  _ can _ kiss.”

“You’re still brain-talking there, Jimbo,” Harvey grunted. He had half a mind to open Jim’s door for him and shove him into the passenger seat, but Jim was a grown-ass man, and if he wanted to get his no-filter thoughts out where Harvey couldn’t hear him, that was fine by Harvey. Really.

Harvey, however, needed to sit down and possibly pop some Tums, because holy shit, his acid reflux was returning with a vengeance. He got his car open, sat down, and leaned his head back, using his hat to cover his eyes.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, the passenger door opened, and Jim half-collapsed into his seat. It sounded like his mouth was still going, but at least he was on the phone.

"Thanks, Lucius," he said. "We should be back at the station house soon." The phone snapped closed, and Harvey heard Jim fastening his seat belt. "What's wrong with Harvey? Hey, you okay?"

Harvey tilted his head up, caught his hat, and tossed it onto the seat between them. "Yeah. Just absorbing the silence as much as I can before you talk my ear off again."

"I'm trying not to say whatever pops in my head," Jim grumbled.

Harvey shook his head and turned on the car. "Nah, it's okay. Just let it flow. Like that guy does, with stream of consciousness stuff."

"Since when do you read William Faulkner?" Jim asked, looking startled.

Harvey snorted, backing out of the parking lot and back into traffic. "Since never, but I've got a niece in high school who complained about him at the last Bullock wedding. Talked my ear off almost worse than you are now."

Jim's chuckle was warm and smooth like really good Scotch. "Big family?"

"More like a clan," Harvey grunted. "I'm sure we could populate the East District by ourselves if you gave us about ten years." He paused for a moment and glanced at Jim out of the corner of his eye. "You're awfully quiet. That stuff finally wearing off?"

"I dunno, but when I'm listening to you, it feels like it turns off long enough to hear what you've gotta say, and then it kicks in again."

Harvey nodded. "You're only gonna hear me say this once, but if you've got any questions you ever wanted to ask me, fire away."

"Harvey, you don't have to--"

"Hey, it's not like you've got a filter right now," Harvey said, keeping his attention firmly on the traffic, and not on the pathetically grateful look his partner was giving him. "And if it means you shutting up for five minutes, I'll take one for the team."

"Awww, Harvey, you're so sweet." Jim smirked.

Harvey snorted, a smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, you weren't complaining about my sweetness in that warehouse." He glanced over and smirked when he saw Jim blush.

“No, I wasn’t,” Jim said, turning his attention back to the traffic.

Harvey didn’t mind. Hell, he was doing the same thing. They never talked about this kind of touchy-feely stuff. Yeah, Harvey ragged on him whenever Jim’s latest romance was either starting up or in the process of crashing and burning, but--

“I really did mean what I said about wanting to kiss you because we want to, and not because we’re stuck inside a warehouse that was going to kill us because I couldn’t shut up,” Jim said before Harvey could fill the silence. “I mean, I certainly didn’t mind, it’s just that I know I can do a lot better than that, and I-- why are you pulling over? We’re not near the station house yet. You made sure the tank was filled before we left for the warehouse in the first place. Harvey?”

Jim had the biggest, dumbest blue eyes that just got wider as Harvey cupped Jim’s face with both hands and kissed him.

Jim, of course, melted into his arms.


End file.
